


Like a Daylight Savings Clock

by somanyopentabs



Series: Like a Daylight Savings Clock [1]
Category: Captain America (2011), Iron Man (Movies), The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Explicit Language, M/M, Shower Sex, erotic humiliation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-09-11
Updated: 2011-09-17
Packaged: 2017-10-23 15:18:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,246
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/251852
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/somanyopentabs/pseuds/somanyopentabs
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Would it bother Steve’s sensibilities to know that Tony was getting off on the idea of just being a thing for Steve’s pleasure, for his use?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Dick Magnet

Tony was on his knees, wobbling a little from the high he was getting just from having his lips wrapped around that perfect cock. That’s right, he could take it all in. Throat sore, no problem, just take it deeper and hum.

So fucking hard right now, Tony wanted to get a hand wrapped around himself, jerk himself off real quick and dirty. Get some fucking relief for the hard on he’d had since Steve had started kissing him minutes ago, right before Tony dropped to his knees and got down to business.

No, couldn’t stop to unzip. He wanted to concentrate, make it last, work Steve’s cock in and out of his mouth like a goddamn pro. He took it deeper, choked a little and kept going. Felt fucking amazing, after all, choking on Steve's dick, even if Steve pulled back some when it happened. Because Tony liked taking more than he could handle, his eyes bigger than his mouth in that respect.

Godfuckingdamnit, Steve’s cock felt good in his mouth. Felt hot and thick and perfect. Tony guided Steve’s hands to his hair, wished he would tug on it a little. No, what he really wished was that Steve would really fucking _pull_ on it, yank his head forward and take control. Fuck Tony’s mouth any way he wanted. Give Tony something he’d be feeling for a long time. Just so he'd never lose the taste, the feel of it.

Fuck, it was good. So good. Feeling like a slut for it, taking it all like he was, burying his lips in Steve’s pubic hair as he took it all the way down. He could feel his lips starting to get sore from the friction, could feel the strain at the corners of his mouth. It was all perfect, even the way his knees were starting to hurt from kneeling on the hardwood floor. Even the way the press of Steve’s dick to the back of his throat made his eyes sting. Oh yeah, he liked it all.

Would it bother Steve’s sensibilities to know that Tony was getting off on the idea of just being a thing for Steve’s pleasure, for his use? That he was so fucking turned on by the thought of just being a couple of warm holes for Steve to fuck?

Probably, and Tony couldn’t decide whether that made it better or worse. That Steve would be appalled at how depraved Tony’s thoughts were sometimes. That he probably shouldn’t find out Tony liked being a slut for him, a total dick magnet for Steve’s cock. That he liked himself best when his mouth was busy sucking Steve off. That no matter what he did, he always felt best on his knees. That he liked the taste of semen on his tongue, how hot and slick inside his mouth as he swallowed. And Tony always, always swallowed.

Tony moaned, pushed forward, choked a little more, and then suddenly Steve was pulling out all the way.

“What?” Tony rasped, eyes swimming and drunk-on-sex and flickering up to Steve for some sort of understanding, because why was Steve pulling away when Tony had _literally_ learned his blowjob technique from porn stars?

“Are you all right?” And Steve, for the life of him, sounded concerned, while Tony could just about come in his pants from all the unresolved sexual tension of the whole situation.

“Fine. Didn’t you, uh, like?” As if anyone wouldn't. And yeah, he knew he was a smug bastard sometimes.

“Yes, of course. You just, ah, are you all right?”

Steve was being all gentlemanly and fuck if that didn't just make Tony harder. He could feel the precome soaking his boxers, he was so goddamned hard.

“Fine, completely fine, Steve. Can we get back to the part with you fucking my face?”

Because sometimes Tony just said the exact wrong thing at the exact wrong time. But no one could accuse him of not having the balls to ask for what he wanted.

“Tony?”

“C’mon, Steve. A little rougher, okay? Pull my hair, get me right where you want me. Just take what you want.” Tony bit his lip in anticipation of Steve’s reaction. It was one thing to act all ballsy with a stranger when the stakes were low. It was another to act bitchy the first time Captain America let him in his pants.

“Tony, really, I don’t need you to—“

“I like it rough, okay? C’mon, Cap, don’t let me down here.” And yeah, Tony knew he was being an asshole, but he just wanted that cock in his mouth again, was that so much to ask for?

“You want me to…?”

“Let me have it. I can take it, Steve. Don’t worry, just do what feels good.”

“And you like this sort of thing?”

Tony leaned forward and kissed the tip of Captain America’s dick. “Fuck, yes.”

Steve still looked uncertain even as Tony once again opened wide to accommodate Steve’s cock and swallowed it down. Steve’s hands were still gentler than Tony would have liked, but Steve grasped his hair and guided him.

Soon Tony could barely think straight. Cock in his mouth, getting his throat fucked, but gently, gently. Not near rough enough, barely tugging his hair. But it was still so damn good. Better than getting his throat fucked by a stranger, better than back-alley sex and one-night-stand-bedroom sex and anonymous bathroom sex. Because it was Steve fucking Rogers, a fucking tangible wet dream with a thousand-watt smile and a nine-inch dick. Tony moaned deep, deeper in his throat, muffled by Steve's prick. He was a complete whore for Steve and he loved it. On his knees for the man, taking whatever he dished out, even if what he was currently getting was not-quite-there. He'd give it time, enjoy the build-up. Tony let his tongue massage along, spurring Steve on, urging him to go faster, deeper.

And what Tony wanted most in the world at that moment was a mouth full of come and a bit of praise from Captain America. Second most he wanted to hump Steve’s leg and rub off on his thigh.

First things first, though, and when Tony felt that telltale spasm he drew back so he could get that taste, right on his tongue, as Steve spurted out with a near-silent groan.

Tony swallowed the semen down and grinned, and reached for himself.

“Want some, uh, help?” Steve asked, not quite sounding breathless, but not nearly put-together either. But hey, Steve was a super-soldier, so Tony counted that as a win.

“I want you to watch,” Tony said, because yeah, exhibitionist streak and all. It would be even better if Steve could talk dirty to him while he watched, but that could wait for another time. Didn’t want to shock the guy too much, after all. Tony had further plans for Steve’s cock, didn’t want to scare him away.


	2. Everyone's Had a Ride

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Yeah, I’ll come up with you.” Tony moved closer into Steve’s personal space. Tony was sweaty, his thin t-shirt clinging to him, oil smudged dirty across his face, but still Steve was looking at him with that mixture of fondness and glint of lust in his eyes.

Man, it felt good to be ~~a gangsta~~ Tony Stark. Mainly because he didn’t currently have a whole hell of a lot to complain about. Let’s face it, simply the fact that he was often referred to as ‘billionaire Tony Stark’ in the media was pretty bitchin’. That’s right, _billionaire_.

Then there was the Iron Man gig, a totally sweet deal where he got to do the whole superhero shtick. Who wouldn’t be pleased about that? He was a card-carrying member of the Avengers, which, among other things, was slick as fuck.

And then there was Steve. No, scratch that—there was Captain Fucking America, all capital letters therein both earned and necessary. And Steve was basically the piece of ass of Tony’s dreams. And wow, Tony was damn lucky that Steve wasn’t a telepath, because that was a pretty reductive and asshole-ish thing to think.

Because, okay, okay…Steve was more than a hot piece of ass. Much more, really. Not that Tony wanted to dwell on that sort of thing, on what Steve was actually beginning to mean to him. Thinking beyond sex opened up a huge can of worms. Only really, metaphors aside, it was more like a huge can of feelings that Tony didn’t want to deal with. Especially the feelings of insecurity that popped up now and again. Thoughts like that had a way of making Tony wish he could kick his own ass for even considering them.

So he kept all that shit on lock. Fuck feelings.

That was, until Steve started attending some of the parties and fundraisers that Tony’s PR department sponsored. The same events that Tony’s numerous ex-fuck-buddies, past-one-night-stands, and previous-drunken-hookups tended to turn up at. Why the fuck hadn’t Tony been more discerning with his partners? He was sure it had all made perfect sense at the time, or had made sense to his libido at least. Hey, sex was _fun_ and _awesome_ and _felt good_. He’d never felt guilty for any of it, and he didn’t feel guilty now.

After all, Tony was a modern man. He didn’t feel ashamed for what he’d done. He was a single man. A single, rich, handsome (if he did say so himself) man who liked to have a good time. No, nothing to feel ashamed about. But what would Steve, the man of the past, possessor of limited experience, all-around class act, and America’s golden boy to boot, think?

Well, suddenly all Tony could envision was that inevitable day when Steve would find out just how much Tony had been around. And Tony had really, really, _really_ been around.

Not that Tony had ever pretended otherwise, but there was a fundamental difference between theoretically knowing that the person you were sleeping with was a huge manwhore, and actually being in a room where you couldn’t turn around without bumping elbows with their past conquests.

Tony had to ameliorate the situation, stat. But how?

Tony did all his best thinking in his workshop, and that was where Steve finally hunted him down.

“You’re not avoiding me, are you?” Steve asked as he watched Tony lift a sweaty arm to hammer something into another something. It might have been something that didn’t even require hammering. Tony couldn’t be entirely sure at the moment; he was too distracted by Steve’s shirtless presence.

“You’re not wearing a shirt,” Tony pointed out, stupidly, and almost dropped the hammer.

“Yeah, I, uh, was working out. Boxing. I had hoped you might join me, but I guess you’re pretty busy.”

“Oh, yeah, that’s me. Busy little bee down here.”

“I can tell,” Steve said, glancing over at Tony’s projects. “Well, listen. It’s getting late, almost midnight, and I was wondering…”

“Is it that late already?” Tony murmured. He had honestly lost track of time. Since he’d entered his workshop to think, he’d invented half a time machine, reversed the polarity of a couple gadgets, dealt with a minor explosion, and figured out exactly jack shit on what to tell Steve.

“Yeah, it is,” Steve said. He was starting to look uncomfortable. “Listen, if you’re too busy, I can just go.”

“Huh? No, no. What was it you were going to say?” Tony asked, setting down his tools and wiping his sweaty hands on his white t-shirt. Great, now Tony felt like a prick for interrupting Captain America. No matter how humble Steve was, or how much he said he was ‘just Steve’ when off-duty, Tony couldn’t help but think like that sometimes, because you weren’t supposed to interrupt a national symbol, right?

Ah, fuck. Now he’d gone off on his own tangent and completely missed half of what Steve had just said. Maybe Tony could use a break. He’d been working for almost ten straight hours.

“Say that again?” Tony tried.

“No, it’s nothing. Not important. Never mind.”

“Steve,” Tony said, reaching out and putting a hand on Steve’s arm as he started to turn away. “I’m sorry, I guess I’ve just got a lot on my mind. Tell me again, please?”

“Gosh, Tony,” Steve muttered, looking and sounding flustered, though he did move into Tony’s touch. “I just wanted to know if you wanted to…if I should wait for you to go to bed. I mean, not that…not that I expect anything, of course. If you’re tired, or if you just want to sleep in your own bed, I’d understand that, Tony.”

Oh, Steve. Bless his patriotic heart, he was asking Tony to come to bed with him. As if Tony would ever willingly say no to that.

“Sure, I’m done here for today.”

“Really?” Relief washed across Steve’s face, which only served to make him more handsome, and that only made what Tony had to tell him later all the more difficult. Thanks a lot, stupid, sexy Captain America.

“Yeah, I’ll come up with you.” Tony moved closer into Steve’s personal space. Tony was sweaty, his thin t-shirt clinging to him, oil smudged dirty across his face, but still Steve was looking at him with that mixture of fondness and glint of lust in his eyes.

“Thought you might have been up to dinner, but you never came,” Steve said as Tony shut down the lights in his workstation and followed him up the stairs and into the elevator.

“Yeah, but you know. Been real busy with stuff.” Hey, it was true, as long as one took that to mean generally speaking.

“You really shouldn’t skip meals, though. Like I always told my men, you’ve got to keep up your strength.”

“Oh?” Tony looked up at Steve and grinned. “Am I your good little soldier?”

Steve sheepishly averted his eyes, saying, “Well, if you’d eat something…”

“Hey, don’t worry about me. Besides, I had a protein bar earlier. Promise.”

The elevator doors opened, and they walked out. Tony briefly thought about his plan to convince Steve into having elevator sex. That was before he was bodily shoved up against his bedroom door and kissed, hard and long, by Steve. And it was Steve without his shirt on, at that.

Tony’s brain took a detour from whatever the fuck he was supposed to be thinking about and concentrated on getting his arms around Steve and pulling him closer.

It was almost like Steve kissed with his entire being, the way he pushed their lips together and took control. Possessive, confident without being too forceful. Tony opened his mouth and let Steve press their tongues together. Let Steve press him further against the wall and kiss him until he was breathless and rock hard.

“Sorry,” Steve said, once he was pulling away at last. “I’m sweaty from the gym and I know I really need a shower, but I couldn’t wait.”

“Damn, Steve. You can do that whenever you like. Don’t apologize.”

“Yeah? Well, guess I should go take a quick shower now.”

Tony smiled and trailed his fingers up Steve’s naked chest. “You want some company in there?”

“Sure, it’ll save water,” Steve said, oblivious, turning and heading toward the bathroom.

Tony sighed, amused and still very, very turned on, and followed.

“This is what you meant by company?” Steve laughed as Tony got his own back by pressing Steve up against the shower wall.

“Any complaints?” Tony countered, pressing a kiss to Steve’s full lower lip.

Steve shook his head and quickly spun them around so that Tony had his back up against the wall.

“Missed you today,” Steve said. The hot water was flowing down his beautiful face, down his perfect chest and washboard stomach, down, down. It trickled down to his glorious cock that was now half-hard. It streamed down his muscled thighs and solid legs. Of course, Steve was pure manliness personified, blemish-free, like a faultless statue come to life. Tony could think half-remembered poetry all day about Steve. Like a complete sap, and oh, he could really punch himself for that sort of thing, too.

Luckily, Tony had a pretty decent brain-to-mouth filter. Years of dealing with the media tended to be good experience for that. And, when he did get the urge to spout sappy nonsense, he could always get on his knees and put his mouth to better use. Seriously, having a mouth full of cock was a great way to prevent oneself from saying stupid things.  
But that wasn’t an option right now, as Tony was held tightly between Steve’s hot, slick body and the steamed-up shower wall. He settled for mumbling something affirmative before searching out Steve’s lips again for another dirty little make-out session.

Steve’s hands were quickly everywhere, roaming along Tony’s thighs, fingers slipping cleverly around him to dip between Tony’s ass cheeks. Tony bucked forward when Steve started toying with his asshole, letting his fingers run over it, teasing Tony out of his mind. Tony could feel that Steve was fully hard as he bucked forward again and began grinding them together like they were dancing dirty at a club.

And there was a thought for Tony’s sex-addled brain. Steve dancing at a club, damn straight that was going in in his fantasies for later. Right now, though…oh, Steve moved from kissing his mouth to licking droplets of water off his neck. All the while he continued to rub his fingers against Tony’s tight little ass. This was several kinds of unfair and awesome at once as Tony let out a desperate moan and pushed forward again, trying for a little friction, a little relief.

But oh, did he love being at Steve’s mercy. Steve was strong enough, big enough to just hold him in place, make him take whatever Steve wanted him to. Not that Steve would ever make Tony do anything. But the thought that he could, well, that was a total turn on.

Tony moaned again and again, whining low in his throat as Steve pressed a finger against him, still not quite entering yet, fucking tease.

“Fuck, Steve. If you don’t tap my ass soon I might just have to push you down on the floor and ride you.” Not that Tony was really capable of pushing Steve anywhere without his armor, but Tony’s logic always did go haywire when he had sex at the forefront of his mind.

“…Tony, that dirty mouth of yours.” Steve’s voice had deepened, roughened with arousal.

“What about it?” Tony said, smirking. “Gonna wash it out with soap?”

“Nope, I love hearing you talk like that,” Steve mumbled, catching Tony’s earlobe between his teeth and nibbling. Then he whispered hotly, “But right now, I’d rather hear you scream.”

“Ah, fuck. Not gonna last long if you keep talking like that,” Tony whimpered.

“You really want me to, uh…” Steve trailed off. Tony really had to hand it to him; one minute he was spouting sex talk like a pro, and the next minute he was back to stumbling over words.

“Tap it?” Tony suggested, and immediately decided to brat it up a bit. “Fuck my brains out? Bend me in two and shove your cock up my ass?”

Steve laughed, and he might have turned a little pink as well, but it was hard to tell in the heat of the shower.

“Smart mouth,” Steve admonished, acknowledging Tony’s ribbing. “But seriously, that what you want?”

“Steve, I swear to god, if you don’t stop teasing me and fuck me soon I’m gonna go crazy.”

Steve smiled at that and leaned forward to kiss him again, this time lightly and without lingering.

“Turn around?” Steve made it a request, even if Tony wouldn’t have minded an order. Steve was especially sexy when being commanding, and anyway, Tony liked being told what to do, as long as it led to hot sex. He turned around and braced his hands on the damp shower wall. He also pushed his ass out, because for one, Tony was just that shameless, and for two, Tony knew he had a great ass.

He could tell Steve was admiring the view from the way Steve’s hands began caressing his skin. They hadn’t had sex this way very many times before. They’d only started the whole sexual thing a few weeks ago, and seeing how being an Avenger was more than a full time job, usually they made do with a handjob or blowjob here or there when there was time. Tony was looking forward to being fucked good and hard.

“You have something in here we can use for, uh, lube?” Steve said the last word as if it were in a foreign language. Hell, for Steve, a lot of words Tony took for granted were probably like an entirely different language.

“Yeah, got a tube by the shampoo.” Tony grunted, trying his best to refrain from touching himself before the main event even started. He wanted to take his time, draw it out, have a real satisfying orgasm.

“You keep lube in your shower?” Steve asked, but soon Tony could feel lubed-up fingers slicking him up. He spread his legs further apart and pushed back to get a better angle, to better feel Steve’s fingers moving inside him. Tony’s only response was to mumble sexed-up, jumbled up phrases, _fuck me, like that, please like that, hurry up and fuck me, ohpleaseohpleaseohplease._

The begging didn’t make a difference, didn’t make Steve go any faster. He took his time preparing Tony, then pulled his fingers out and replaced them with his cockhead. Then Steve was pushing forward, pushing into Tony, pressing into his hole, and Tony almost felt like he was being taken apart. The sensation was intense, and when Steve was finally all the way inside, Tony felt so full, like he couldn’t move, could only stand there, pinned down by Steve’s cock.

“Please, Steve. Move,” Tony said, voice cracking under the strain he was feeling.

And when Steve at last did move, slowly at first, and then with building speed, Tony cried out softly, pushing back and working himself on Steve’s cock as much as he could, just as much as he could manage while being filled up and taken like that.

Fuck, Tony loved taking it from behind. Steve’s legs alongside his, Steve’s hips moving with sharp, steady, increasingly faster movements. Steve’s cock pounding into him deep, deeper, and deeper still. His hands pressed against the wall like that, he couldn’t reach for his own cock. He let out a short little whimper and said, “Steve, jerk me off?”

And then it was all too much, with the feel of Steve thrusting into him while he thrust his own cock into Steve’s hand. He was coming all too quickly, coming hard, shooting out onto the shower wall and shuddering in Steve’s strong grip.

Tony was almost too hazy from his own orgasm to hear Steve asking, something near desperation in his voice, in his ear, “Tony. Tony, can I come on you?”

Oh, fuck. Best day ever, because Steve wanted to mark him, claim him, make him dirty with his seed. Oh hell yeah, Tony had no objections.

“Steve, do it. Oh, god, just do it. Get me all messy.”

A couple more thrusts, and then Steve was pulling out, spilling all over Tony’s back and his ass cheeks, semen dribbling down his ass crack and over his hole.

“Not that I’m complaining, but where did that come from?” Tony asked as he turned around and Steve nuzzled against his neck.

Steve shrugged against him. “Just wanted to. Why, didn’t you like it?”

“I loved it,” Tony assured him quickly. It was a dirty little fantasy that he hadn’t yet shared with Steve, but the thought of being covered in the man’s come was arousing as anything. And there Steve had asked to do it. Tony could hardly believe his luck.

They cleaned quickly and efficiently, neither one questioning the fact that they both drifted to the same bed afterwards. It was just sex, with a side order of no more lonely nights, right? Tony ignored the tug at his heart in favor of cuddling up to Steve.

Having satisfied his libido, Tony’s brain turned back to worry mode. Well, now was as good a time as any to address his concerns. Tony didn’t usually do pillow talk. For one thing, his mattress cost about 10K and was comfy as hell. That, and he tended to pass out after getting off a mission, or just getting off. Tonight, though, he poked at Steve’s arm and said, “You still awake?”

“Yeah,” Steve answered. Tony must have been wearing his emotions on his sleeve because Steve added, “What’s the matter?”

“Nothing. Just, you know how the others like to joke about my past, er, bed partners?”

“Yeah, so?”

“Are you going to be angry if you find out how many I’ve actually had? Not that it’s bad, but, well, I know you come from a time when things were a lot different, and…”

Steve interrupted him with a sigh. It wasn’t the kind, fond sigh that he usually reserved for Tony, but one that spoke of weariness. “Tony, I realize that I’m not the most experienced person. In fact, you’d be hard-pressed today to find another man my age just as inexperienced. But I’m not an idiot. I understand that things are different now. You don’t need to explain for yourself or, well, for all of society.”

“Oh.” Well, look at that. Steve being completely reasonable. And Tony falling that much more in love with…

Ah, fucking hell.


End file.
